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And so we watched, as Geoffrey finally lowered his head back to Grieve and leaned over my suffering prince. He held up the syringe, almost as though he wanted me to see it, and brought it down toward Grieve’s arm.
“Stop! What do you think you’re doing?” Lannan stepped out of the shadows. Even from this distance, I caught the glare on his face.
“Lannan. I don’t remember requesting your appearance here. What are you doing?” Geoffrey stopped short of injecting Grieve, and I tried to catch my breath but was once again rudely reminded that I was in shadow form, not breathing.
Lannan held up his hand. “Don’t do this. Let the Vampiric Fae die. Let him rot in the moldering mess that you started so many years ago. Don’t even pretend we need him—we don’t. The only reason you could want him alive is to win over Cicely to your side because Lainule put an end to your other scheme. Well, I can guarantee the current one won’t work either, not once she finds out what plans you have for her and her beloved feral boy toy here. She’s mine, Geoffrey, and I don’t share well with others.”
Geoffrey snarled at him. “You do not have the authority to alter my decisions, nor do you have the balls to fight me. Don’t even try, Golden Boy. I can stake you like a tomato. I didn’t become the most feared warlord in history by backing down to sycophants and hedonists. The land ran red under my rule and my people learned to fear me.”
Lannan took a step back, and I could see his eyes grow wide, the shining black orbs glistening in the dim light.
“You’ve never understood the finer points of living. You thrive on bloodshed, and this time is not kind to warlords. You’ve outlived your place, Geoffrey. You should just walk into the sun while you still have your dignity.”
With a low growl, Geoffrey strode over to clasp Lannan by the collar and lift him off the ground. Lannan didn’t resist, and though I was glad to see him get smacked down, the fact that someone could force him to endure such an indignity scared the fuck out of me.
Lannan let out a short laugh, but Geoffrey choked it off. “Laugh if you will, for now, boy. But don’t ever forget how we met. I took down a hundred of Regina’s men, singlehandedly. I bloodied your palace and captured Crawl for the Crimson Queen. I had the Oracle on a collar when I took him to the Queen, when she laid the curse on him. And you . . . you and your sister crawled on your bellies at my feet, begging for your lives. Regina has her position solely with my backing, and you live only because she has a passion for you. Interfere with my plans, and you’ll watch your stable die one by one, before I make you my whipping boy.”
Lannan let out a short sound, but quieted, and Geoffrey lowered him back to the ground.
“Tsk, tsk, Regent. Best watch your temper. If our Cicely finds out about your past—your present—truly, she’s not going to want to cooperate with you.” Lannan shook his head and turned away. “I won’t interfere, but I won’t help you, either. Not unless the Crimson Queen directly orders me to. I know too much about you.”
He looked up, turning my way, and for a moment I thought he could see me. As he stared in our direction, he added, “Geoffrey, you’d best walk softly. Myst is out for your head, and there are many who would serve you up to her on a silver platter. And Lainule, I urge you to be cautious. I would not see you hurt—you are too bright, too beautiful. Don’t trust this blood-monger. And don’t trust that breeding won’t play true. Cicely was Myst’s daughter. Do you truly believe her soul energy can’t outweigh mere blood?”
Lainule, who had remained silent through the vampires’ altercation, shook her head. “She will not revert. I have seen her heart, as have you, Lannan Altos. You seek to defile her; I seek to uplift her. Geoffrey is the fulcrum, a middle balance. And though I had to dissuade him of his original plan, the current one bears more promise. We have no hope left but to try it. Myst . . . you know nothing of the Queen of Shadow and Winter. She is evil incarnate. She is the long, dark deep of the winter. She is the shadow of the moon and the chill of bone and blade. I know her—she is my counterpart. She is my alter ego, my doom. Cicely is the key—her decisions set in motion events leading to an ending of this war. Geoffrey may have started it by himself, but he cannot finish it alone.”
“I sincerely hope for your sake that you’re right. And for your information, I do not seek to defile the girl. I enjoy toying with her because nothing can quench her spirit. I’ve seen both sides within her—the dark and the light. Which way she turns remains to be seen.” Lannan turned and began walking over the top of the snow, his feet leaving no prints on the surface of the glistening white.
I shivered. Everything was in a tailspin, and I felt like I was falling into darkness, into the shadows, into a vortex of decisions needing to be made. Geoffrey—was he truly a warmonger? Did Lannan actually mean what he said? And just what influence did Geoffrey have with the Crimson Queen? Or Lainule, for that matter?
Kaylin tapped me on the shoulder, and I glanced over at him. His aura flared with energy, some golden, some dark red, and I knew he was angry for me. I nodded that I was okay, although I felt anything but, and turned back to watch as Lannan strode out of sight and then a great black bat filled the sky, flying off.
Geoffrey turned back to Wrath, who stood, arms folded, waiting. “Continue. I’m sorry for the interruption. Will this cause a problem in proceeding?”
“Tell me what you plan with my daughter.”
Geoffrey would not answer, but Lainule spoke up, her voice smooth. “There is no need to fret, husband. I have approved the plans and they will not be in vain.”
Wrath shook his head. “As you will, my love. We will need to recover the energy before continuing. It has seeped away, and the only manner in which to be certain the antidote takes is to build the cone once again. So you must wait for a few more moments, Regent, before administering the serum.”
“I still think this is premature, but we must take steps before Cicely insists on doing something rash. For she is as headstrong as her sire,” Lainule said, then laughed. “My Wrath, you begot a daughter to be proud of, even if she is a handful. Lannan Altos is wrong. She is now ours, fully and forever. And if it took our finding Grieve again in order to bring her spirit to us, then that is a small price to pay. His love for her will not go unrewarded. Nor hers for him. If she but agrees to the plans Geoffrey and I have made, all will be well.”
“We have much to speak of, my lady,” Geoffrey said, turning to Lainule. “You owe me for this, remember.”
Lainule inclined her head. “The Court of Rivers and Rushes never forgets its debts.”
Confused, but convinced that it was better if I found out what they were talking about on my own, rather than be seen and have them angry I was spying, I motioned to Kaylin that we should leave. He took my hand and we slipped away.
As we were headed back to the house, still on the plane of shadow and smoke, a blur and a flash interrupted us. Kaylin stopped short, slamming me in back of him, and stretched out his arms.
“Do not attempt to pass. She is not one of the Bat People, nor of their children. You cannot claim her.”
“I need to settle—I need a host.” The words echoed through me with the force of a sledgehammer and I caught a glimpse of the creature over Kaylin’s shoulder. It reminded me of something . . . the fetish! The twisted creature, part bat, part—something else—had to be one of the night-veil demons. Oh crap, was it thinking it could nest in me?
“Then you must find a host elsewhere. Go to the Court of Dreams; find a host among the Chosen Ones. She is not yours and never will be yours.” Kaylin clapped his hands and the energy reverberated through the air, sending the night-veil head over heels, gusting away from us. It howled once, a pained shriek, then raced off.
“What did you do to it?”
Kaylin glanced back at me and, even in his murky, shadow-stuff form, I caught sight of those glowing eyes. He smirked. “I told it to go away.”
